


Hallways

by Quit3Contrary



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ice Skating, Performance Art, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:27:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quit3Contrary/pseuds/Quit3Contrary
Summary: Isabella tries to console a broken JJ following his poor short program performance.--"Here you go, JJ," she said softly as she approached, socks murmuring against the carpet as she walked over to hand him one of the bottles in her hands. It was now that he glanced up, an unreadable expression painting his features as he accepted the gift without acknowledgement. His mood sizzled off of his skin, entering and circulating with the air in the room; her ears buzzed from the sheer force of it now that she was close. Eyes traveling downward, she sat down beside him without a word as she opened the bottle left in her hands for a drink.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for my husband's birthday. Hope you enjoy!

The quiet in the hallway was almost uncomfortable, a long stretch of white doors standing apathetically on either side as she walked past. One of these belonged to her, but they all looked identical, each hiding a small collection of people behind them, their lives never intersecting with hers despite the closeness. As she approached the door that was hers, she fumbled with the water bottles that rested precariously on a single hand while pulling out the key, sliding it into the designated slot. It chirped cheerfully before allowing her entry, and she twisted the handle, the heavy atmosphere in the room pressing into her as she shut the door behind her.

  
The silence from outside stretched into the room, despite having another occupant that had been waiting patiently for her to return. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes the color of a thinly clouded sky gazing at the hands he had rested in his lap. Despite her entry, he remained still.

  
"Here you go, JJ," she said softly as she approached, socks murmuring against the carpet as she walked over to hand him one of the bottles in her hands. It was now that he glanced up, an unreadable expression painting his features as he accepted the gift without acknowledgement. His mood sizzled off of his skin, entering and circulating with the air in the room; her ears buzzed from the sheer force of it now that she was close. Eyes traveling downward, she sat down beside him without a word as she opened the bottle left in her hands for a drink.

  
Isabella sipped at the water before closing it up and setting it on the mattress, hoping that her fiance might have something to say if she just gave him time. But it had been fifteen minutes since they returned from the venue and JJ was still silent. He felt like an entirely different person, his once bright eyes dulled with worry and disappointment; their relationship was still relatively young, the 18 months between them once feeling like a badge of honor. It was difficult to ignore that this situation rubbed in how little they really knew about each other. What he was like when he was angry. Disappointed. Upset. What he wanted to hear. She loved him, but felt lost, the possibility of him flubbing his routine so unlikely that it wasn't one that she had ever prepared for.

  
Each moment that passed in silence began to tighten around her, his sadness radiating so strongly that she felt like she couldn't breathe. He refused to speak, and she couldn't live another moment without trying to get him to.

  
"Do you want to talk about it?" she said, hesitation coloring the phrase. JJ glanced over, brought out of his trance for a moment by the sound of her voice. With a great deal of thought, he opened the lid of his water, taking a swig without responding as his eyes drifted back to his knees. The quiet ticked on, marked by their heartbeats; they were out of sync, his racing with his thoughts while hers fluttered with worry.

  
His refusal to speak hurt, whatever the reason for it; it was impossible for her to help if she didn't know what she could do. Isabella felt her hands curl into fists, the helplessness that plagued her making it difficult for her to do much else. She had always reveled in his successess, pride swelling in her chest at each achievement as if it were her own. But it seemed as though he didn't understand that each failure was just as painful to her as well.

  
It hurt, knowing that he didn't trust her enough to say what was hurting him. They were engaged, the question asked and euphorically answered the night before they flew out to Barcelona for the Grand Prix Final. With her acceptance, she had agreed to take on all parts of him--the beautiful with the ugly. Tonight, the ugly was out in full force, but it seemed as though JJ wanted to shoulder it alone. She felt useless, watching his eyes search the room for answers they would never find on their own.

  
"JJ, please," Isabella breathed, fingers brushing along the proud red sleeve of his zip-up sweater; the touch came as a surprise to him, and his eyes were back on her again, wide with alarm. The expression made her feel like a stranger, her hand an unwelcome intrusion on whatever he was going through. Against the grain of his mood, she continued, pushing through the urge to let him stew, hoping that her instincts were correct. "Talk to me."

JJ's eyes immediately welled up with tears; he looked away in an attempt to hide them, but they glistened in the dim light that rested on the nightstand.

"I really messed up this time." His voice was little more than a breath shaped by his lips. Smiling, Isabella placed a hand on his thigh in encouragement, trying to find her own words to respond.

"You pulled through it, though. That's what counts," she said, though it felt hollow. The bluff was quickly called.

"No, those numbers are what count," JJ cut back quickly, the strong edge present in his voice fueled by panic or anger. Isabella didn't know what he was more prone to; a heat grew in her cheeks, inexperience proving to be a greater enemy than JJ's self-doubt. "87 points. 87! It's fucking embarrassing."

Exhaling heavily, JJ rested his head in his hands; helplessness tugged at every part of Isabella as she attempted to murmur more comforting words.

"Forget about the score, JJ--"

"How can I forget about it?" His hands were in the air now, pleading to someone who might actually have the answer. Bringing his eyes to hers, he stared at her with an intensity usually reserved for his time on the ice. In those instances, it was a strong, confident energy; it was what she had fallen in love with. Now it was perverted into something else, the familiar aura battered by questions he wouldn't voice. "You know what my scores get me? Sponsors. Sponsors pay for my training, pay for me to come here, pay my bills until I can win purses. What if they drop me after this? How am I supposed to provide for us?"

There was nothing hypothetical about the question. It hung in the air for a few moments before Isabella decided to speak, addressing it with more thought than she had her previous attempts.

"I don't know," she said honestly, and his face twinged with panic. Instinctively, she brought her hands to his shoulders, pressing a palm to his cheek in an attempt to calm him. "We'll figure something out. We're a team. I know you're working hard, and so am I. Both of us are responsible for our happiness."  
JJ diverted his gaze, eyes brimming with tears and disbelief.

"What about the wedding?"

A laugh escaped her, the absurdity of the question smacking her in the face as she lowered her hand. The wedding seemed so distant and unimportant in the face of everything else. He did not share her amusement, brows wrinkling in confusion as she waved her hand dismissively and attempted to explain herself.

"The wedding isn't important." The expression on his face mutated into something closer to devastation, and she continued. "No, I mean, it is. But the most important thing is that we're together at the end of it. If we have to downsize, so be it." Isabella shrugged, the idea having a fair amount of appeal after a few vapid attempts to begin planning the event. "I'll uninvite the half of my family that I don't like anyway."

There was a spark of something in his eyes now, a flicker of humor showing her that she might have made the smallest amount of progress. A smile made its way to her lips, and he weakly returned it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought him in for a hug, one that he reciprocated with fervor, hands trembling as he pressed them into her back to bring her closer. Warmth spread through her, starting at his fingertips; there was nothing like being held by him, his passion for his work matched only by his passion for her. It was something she could feel every time he looked at her, touched her, kissed her.

Sometimes, in their attempts at domesticity, he would visit her apartment and watch her work with a silent, joyful reverence that made her know there was no other man that could possibly love her as much as he did. It was hard not to feel outdone, his zealous, single-minded approach extending well beyond his skating, showing itself in the way that he bent over backwards to make sure she was happy. She tried to keep up, her feelings and gestures returned with double the intensity, everything she did to try and let him know how deeply she loved him feeling like a half-assed attempt. This was her chance to show him that he was more than just the icon she had admired when they met.

Burying his nose in her hair, JJ whispered, "I just want to give you everything. You deserve everything. You don't deserve to be with a loser."

'Loser'. It hurt to hear, the word holding a mirror up to her as she attempted to stare it down in defiance. If someone who had accomplished as much as he had thought of himself that way, what did that make her? They weren't two different people anymore. Or, at least, that was the goal.

  
Instinctively, her arms tightened around him, one of her hands traveling down his back as she tried to bring them closer together, the other running through the short bristles of hair on the back of his head. "No one thinks you're a loser..."

His head touched her shoulder, eyes burying themselves in the curve of her neck.

"I let everyone down today." JJ's voice was a shadow, the hot air from the phrase burning into her collarbone. It lit a fuse, anger burning slowly within her as she heard someone she so deeply respected tear himself up over a single mistake. Gently, but with enough force to let him know that she meant it, Isabella pushed him back, her hands gripping his shoulders as she looked him straight in the eye.

"No. You didn't. Everyone was upset because you weren't able to do your best, but no one thinks less of you. You're one of only 6 people who have made it this far. We've gotten to go all over the world because of you. Do you have any idea what you've given me in the time that we've been together? Why would you ever think you owe me more?"

He was crying now, and she swallowed hard, knowing that she couldn't stop. How could she get him to understand? Placing her hands on his cheeks, his tears slipped through her fingers as she continued. "Everyone in that audience was singing tonight. I was singing for you, too. We all wanted you to know that we were with you." A hiccup escaped him, JJ standing strong against the sobs he wanted to give into. "Look at me. I'm with you."

"Why?" The inquiry was simple, genuine, and cut a shallow line across her heart. Wasn't it obvious?

"Because you'll still make that podium, as long as you keep fighting. I know you can." Isabella paused, the words just as true and important to her as her eventual vows. A moment passed before she allowed herself a grin. "And you're right, I don't deserve to be with a loser. That's why I'm marrying a king."

Pulling him close again, their lips met in a still, soft kiss. An exhale escaped through his nose as he cried, JJ's hand reaching behind her head as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair; she knew that her words wouldn't heal whatever wounds he had inflicted on himself since the botched performance, but Isabella hoped that he knew how much she meant them.

When they eventually pulled apart, she rested her forehead on his, silver-blue eyes slightly less clouded as they looked back at her with a familiar warmth.

"I love you," she whispered. Isabella hardly ever got to say it first. It was impossible for him to hide the smile through his tears, the unfamiliarity of her instigation making him beam at the phrase.

"I love you, too."


End file.
